The means to gain happiness is to throw out from oneself, like a spider, in all directions, an adhesive web of love, and to catch in it all that comes. (Leo Tolstoy)
With all of our senses, intellect and abilities, we still have to add superpower features just to make us special.
Maybe, deep down in our core essence, we realise that nature's, assumed simplicity, makes a mockery of our need to move so much, to acquire so much, to over complicate everything, so much.
I was hanging out some clothing to dry, another human limitation, and I notice a spider web right beside the pegs.
In the corner of some wood, a little spider had set up his little web home. A little fly like creature had become entangled. The spider came out of some nook hiding place, quickly binding up the prey, then returning back to the shadows.
Nicely done, little spider. Nicely done.
I wonder what he thinks about, while hiding there, in the little nook?
